Takashi Homma (1996)
mise à jour grand format cadrée plus large
moroboshi
go away!
filthy-true
body issues & self esteem
I’ve always considered myself to be a confident person.
But there always have been things about myself that I didn’t like. And they all have to do with how I look. My stomach. My arms. My tiny boobs. How wide my face is. My shoulders. God, I hate how broad my shoulders are.
It’s actually really hard to find pictures where you can see my full body because I dislike how it looks. I struggle with this even more now because I’ve gained weight. And there are periods between months and even years where photos of me don’t exist. Even of just my face.
I am so much more comfortable behind the camera than in front of it.
The thing is I think I only managed to be so confident growing up is because I didn’t think my appearance really mattered. I always thought that if I was smart and interesting and a good person that people (and guys) would like me anyways. I never loved my body but I never hated it either. I just kind of tolerated it because it’s me. This is what I look like. It is just the package, the temporary vessel, for my soul. And it is me, the real me, inside not out, that was the most important thing.
But as I got older, I realized that I have always been somewhat dissatisfied by my appearance. This has now been exuberated by the fact that I’m unhappier with it than ever. And the unhappier I am about it, the less I put myself out there because if I can’t find myself attractive, how could someone else?
I think it’s a hard pill to swallow, the reality of what being a fat girl is like. It’s like I’m invisible on so many people’s radars whereas my friends are setting off alarms everywhere they go. And it’s not like guys wont have a beer with me and hang out and have a good laugh. It’s not like they wont text me and tell me stories they haven’t told anyone else. It’s not like I’m not generous and kind and caring and fun. But I feel like I am not a sexual entity in their eyes. I am a girl but not a girl, and I am certainly not dateable.
And I just accepted it – accepted that I am just supposed to be single. I just assumed that it wasn’t in the cards for me. I constantly made excuses too – I made myself too busy, too invested in school and work, too whatever, and told myself that it was me that didn’t want this, not that everyone else didn’t want me. And then, when I was available, when I stopped making excuses, I came to accept the alternative, much harsher ‘truth’.
I was not dateable and that there was no way for a guy to find me sexually attractive.
Especially after I gained weight. I was uncomfortable in my own skin. My clothes didn’t fit. I was so unhappy with myself.
And it wasn’t until I had a casual hook up that I realized that guys could actually find me sexually attractive. That I’m not just this non-sexual entity that just kind of exists. It made me realize how little I saw myself.
As much as you can try to tell yourself you don’t need validation from other people to feel good, everyone wants to feel attractive sometimes. And even then, guys will sleep with you (despite the fact you’re fat) but it doesn’t mean he’ll date you.
And yet, I had never felt desirable before. It made me feel good. It’s still a balancing act between feeling desired and feeling used. I don’t know if I did it for the right reasons.
This also made me realize something else. My mindset was kind of a self-fulfilling prophecy. I just assume that it’s impossible for guys to like me so that every guy I meet, I don’t even consider it. They’re nothing more than friends to me, because I’ll just end up disappointed and hurt when they inevitably don’t feel the same. And each time I ask a guy out and each time I get rejected, it just reconfirms this idea. And each time I tell myself this, when a guy could have liked me, but thinks I’m not interested, just reconfirms this idea, because they’ll never make a move.
Even recognizing this was hard, how little I had began to think of myself. When I look at myself I don’t think I look bad. But when a former co-worker placed his hands on my shoulders and said, “You look like you played football. You’re built like a linebacker,” I wanted to cry. When I look at pictures of myself now, I want to cry. I hate looking at how round I look.
I have this idea in my head of what a woman looks like and she doesn’t look anything like me. She is small and fragile and has tiny bones, while I am robust and hearty and strong. I think I don’t look like a girl and so I can’t be desired like one. I sometimes don’t even act like one.
But this idea is so wrong. Women come in different shapes and sizes and as much as I think that I am not one, I am a woman. And a woman looks however a woman looks. I am a woman, therefore I look like a woman. Not the other way around. I may think that I am not feminine, but even defining why I am not feminine is tough. I have all these ideas in my head of what I should be and what I should look like.
And the issue is, for example, even if I lost weight, even at my skinniest, I will always have broad shoulders. So the bigger problem isn’t about my body, but my mind. I can be skinny and unhappy with my body, or I could be skinny and happy with it. And right now I’m neither. So while I’m working towards eating better, exercising more, being more organized, and becoming a morning person, the thing I need to change most is my mindset.